


Karkat Vantas is Broken

by punkpasta



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Abuse, Alcohol, Drug Use, Mental Illness, Other, Self Harm, its rlly sad im sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-02
Updated: 2015-03-02
Packaged: 2018-03-15 23:32:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3466085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punkpasta/pseuds/punkpasta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Karkat Sadstuck, might just leave it as a one chapter story</p>
            </blockquote>





	Karkat Vantas is Broken

**Author's Note:**

> im sorry its so sad  
> aaaaah  
> sorry for short chapters i'm not very good at breaking work up and it ends up in short chapters

“karkat vantas is broken.” He whispers it under his breath, over and over like a shattered dream as he drags broken glass.

“karkat vantas is a freak” they yell like huge birds as he walks head down, wrapped in clothes too big for him 

“karkat vantas is a useless son!” his father shouts each time he brings home C- report cards and he tries to explain what went wrong.

He struggles every day to stand up, he doesn’t care if his clothes are clean anymore. Karkat walks heavy down a hallway and ducks under a boy and a girl kissing against the wall he had been using for cover and tears well in his yellow freak-of-nature eyes again because he has a secret. He walks to class and he hears nothing the teacher has to say, he shuffles overdue homework under other missing assignments and pages of tear-stained forgotten problems one through 14, dark circles under his eyes reflecting emptiness like the moon in an undisturbed pond because he is made of hard glass stitched together with nothing  
He stumbles home again and his father demands to know where he’s been, blissed out of his mind forgetting everything it all sounds so far away,  
His pain is so far away, blood drips onto his jeans and the floor as he stares up at the green-tinged ceiling  
He soars so high above it steps over clouds he floats among stars finally between the pain and the drugs he is able to feel something, but as he knows too well, nothing good can ever stay with him and his vacation is not as long as he had hoped so all he can do is pander to his ridiculously low alcohol tolerance with beer stolen from his dad’s refrigerator. He drifts into sleep.

Karkat vantas wakes up at noon in a hospital bed. His entire body is made of pain, fire that shoots from his arms. He opens his eyes and sees a nurse with a name tag that reads Aradia Megido.  
“what’s going on?” he rasps in a voice seldom used  
“your father found you asleep in a pool of blood, vomit, and beer after you didn’t get up for school in the morning. He didn’t know what to do so he called an ambulance. We’ve been sewing you up.” Karkat looks down as she says this and his sweatshirt had been peeled away and the long sleeves of his old shirt ha been cut away with scissors, and though he can barely move he tries to hide his arms. He’s hidden for so long that the idea of somebody- everybody- being able to see hits him like a train and suddenly he’s thirsty for cold hard metal, hungry for sharps.  
The nurse keeps talking about something called the BPMU and trigger cards. He cant really understand because any time someone gets that hard clinical tinge in their voice he’s learned to dissociate because it always meant that he had done something wrong.  
She tells him to sit up and he does, a robot in a messily cut tank top and arms wrapped up like he’s got a sweater on.  
The nurse is explaining that he has to cover up because he might make someone else upset. Everything is a foggy haze of hangover and he steps unevenly on the floor, his feet are bare and his toes are cold. The nurse hands him something and he is wary. He takes the socks she is holding out to him and she stops to let him put them on. he waits beside her for the tour to resume.  
“put on your socks, Karkat.” He sits on the floor with permission and pulls them on under his pants. The nurse’s eyes pause on the gray-black jeans, covered in spills and bloodstains. He stands back up. She leads him to a room.


End file.
